"It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station and taken our places in the Kentish train that we were sufficiently thawed, he to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his pocket, and read aloud: ..."

Winter has come overnight… snow, cold, and the winds. This is a perfect day to cozy up to the fire with Sherlock Holmes. I shall make a pot of tea for myself… perhaps something with a hint of smokiness and oriental spice… of pipes, violins, and mystery…